Princess Shikamaru
by Danimeister
Summary: In which Shikamaru Nara is roped into one of the most difficult missions of his entire life: playing "Princesses" with his deceased sensei's daughter.


**_Hello everyone! I've been itching to write something Naruto related for a while now, and when I found out that Kishimoto-san was thinking of making Asuma's child a girl, I just couldn't pass this idea up. It's just a fluffy little one-shot. :3_**

**_Thanks in advance for reading!_**

_**-D**_

**_Disclaimer: I do not, nor have, nor ever will own anything related to the label Naruto or Naruto Shippuden. That all belongs to Kishimoto-san! :3_**

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**_Princess Shikamaru_**

The late afternoon air was hot and humid, stifling. Lazy brown eyes rolled up, glancing up into the silvery blue sky. White, fluffy clouds dotted the blue expanse, making a small smile break through his usually bored expression. Those clouds looked especially free today, able to float around and go with the flow, never forced to make a decision or a choice. That's how he had wanted to live his life; free of consequences and responsibilities. Earlier in his years, he would have envied those clouds, saying that he only became a shinobi because he thought it would give him the option to have a fun life.

But things change, he thought absently. Sometimes for the better or for the worse.

Shikamaru Nara stopped for a moment to kick a pebble with the toe of his sandal. It skittered across the road and out of sight, as if it were running from him. He shuffled in the sand for a moment more before turning to the right, following the dirty road to his destination. Shikamaru let out a lengthy sigh, plodding along. There was no need to rush, for he always came early for these special missions. In fact, he realized in mid thought, he knew he _liked _these missions. Sure, they were tiresome and _extremely _troublesome, but he never said no. He never even gave the response of "no" a second thought. A few times, he had caught himself saying yes when he had already made other plans to train with Ino or Choji and would have to cancel on them. But, no matter how many times he had bailed on them, if he gave in and let them know where he was going, they always understood. Even Ino would just nod and smile.

Shikamaru stopped in front of the small house, shifting his weight before he raised a fist to knock on the wooden door. Behind the door, he could hear some shuffling, followed by the patter of small feet. A few more unidentifiable noises were heard before the door unlocked and swung open.

No matter how many times he visited her, he could never get over how much she looked like _him._

She had the same face shape, angled and wise, with an all-knowing smile. The same dark-colored hair, though hers was long and pulled into two spiky pony-tails, fell to frame her chin. Window-wide eyes widened even more at the sight of him, sparkling a deep color between brown and black. And even though she had her mother's pale complexion and big, round eyes, Shikamaru only saw Asuma in her.

Ever since Asuma had revealed to him that Kurenai was pregnant-some of his last words, Shikamaru noted sadly-he had vowed to take care of both Kurenai and the child when Asuma was gone, saying he would grow up to become a "cool adult" and help the child to become a great ninja like its father. He had kept his promise. His "special missions" always had something to do with Asuma's child, and most of his comrades knew that. Whether it was attempting to explain chakra control, or trying to hide his shinobi tools from her prying hands, Shikamaru was always willing to do anything for her. It wasn't just an obligation or a responsibility; it was honoring a swear he had given a dying man. He wouldn't be able to face Asuma in the afterlife if he neglected his sensei's words. And no matter what, Shikamaru would continue to honor that promise.

Even if that meant he was now a part time babysitter.

"Shikamaru-sensei!" the little girl cheered, racing to embrace his waist, breaking him out of his mindful thoughts when she did. She was small for her age, but somehow willowy.

"Hey, Asami-chan," Shikamaru replied, using the endearing honorific. Normally, Shikamaru wouldn't use the term. But Asami was different, he supposed. "How's it going?"

"Good," she sang, releasing him and jumping back a step before swiveling her way back into the house. "Mama! Sensei's here!"

As she danced back in, Shikamaru followed her, his spiky pony-tail bobbing, stepping on to the welcome tatami mat. He closed the door behind him, making sure to kick off his shoes before he entered any farther. The house was small, fit for two people almost perfectly. The entryway opened up into the main room, where a simple wooden table with four chairs was placed, a window on the far side of the room. On the window's edge, a simple flower pot with one white daisy was situated. Shikamaru knew that after Asuma had passed, Kurenai couldn't stand the thought of living in the dwelling they had shared for the last five months of his life. So after Asami was born, she packed up and moved to a small home in the middle of the village, close enough that Asami could walk to the Academy when she became of age.

That age was coming soon, Shikamaru thought with a twinge of discomfort. Soon she would be learning how to demolish her enemies and learn how to become a deadly shinobi. Genjutsu, taijutsu and ninjutsu would become ways of life, not just strange words she had heard from his mouth. She would then have to graduate, be split into a group of three, and then be thrown out into the cruel world just as he had been years before. Part of him knew that this was inevitable, and that the only way to help her through the struggle was to teach her what Asuma had taught him; team work, strategy, and survival skills. But the other part of him wanted to place her in a box, and lock her in an airtight room so no harm would come to her and she would remain completely safe.

Man, he was really starting to sound like his mother.

"Oh, Shikamaru. You're early." Kurenai's voice shocked him out of his thoughts. His eyes snapped up, brown meeting bright crimson. A smile was on her pale face, headband tied tight around her forehead. How long had he been thinking? She hadn't been there a moment ago.

"Yeah," Shikamaru said, shrugging.

"You don't have to do that," she said, gentle eyes casting down. Today, she wasted no time bringing up the uncomfortable subject of being a bother. She always said that, making it seem like she and Asami were a burden to him.

"Yes, I do." That was always his reply. Even though it was in fact troublesome, he wasn't about to show it. Besides, he kind of liked spending time with the kid.

Since Asami was present, she didn't fight him further. Usually, the calm woman would've gotten into quite the heated discussion with him, but tonight she just pursed her lips and sighed. "Alright, then. It won't be long; I should be back by nightfall. Be good for Shikamaru-sensei, alright, Asami?"

The small girl nodded, darting out from behind her mother to grasp at the hem of Shikamaru's flak vest. She began insistently pulling him along farther into the house, her lyrical voice chiming, "Okay, Mama! Bye-bye!"

"We'll be fine," Shikamaru mouthed.

Kurenai nodded, the tentative smile returning to her face before she disappeared into a cloud of jutsu induced smoke. Shikamaru knew how much she hated leaving her daughter behind, though he knew Asami rarely thought of her mother's absence when she was away.

"So, what're we gonna do today, kiddo?" Shikamaru asked, dragging his attention from his mind to the little girl before him, who had drug him to the table and chairs, motioning for him to sit down.

"I have something special!" Asami sang. "Do you wanna play it with me?"

The Nara sat down, settling himself deep into the wood chair, his hands resting behind his neck to create a make-shift pillow. When he nodded, Asami bolted off, squealing happily. He closed his eyes, breathing in deeply, meditating on the sounds he could hear down the narrow hallway to his left. Feet padding. The opening of a rickety closet door. Asami's voice mumbling numbers to herself. Then, more padding feet, getting louder. She was returning.

When he opened his eyes, he made no attempt to stifle his groan. His mood soured somewhat instantly.

Asami's lips pursed, clutching the objects in her arms tighter to her chest. "What? They're brand new!"

"That's not ... exactly it," Shikamaru answered slowly, a drop of sweat forming on his hairline. He couldn't help but stretch away from her, teeth grinding in uncertainty.

It was like she sensed the animosity that he had toward the objects she had with her. She purposely dropped the items into Shikamaru's lap; all he could make out in the pile of disorderly objects was jewels, gems, a pair of sparkly silver shoes, and _a lot _of pink. Half of the items he didn't even know what they were! "Then what's wrong?" Her lips began to quiver, the lower one sticking out a considerable amount more than it had a moment ago. "You don't want to play with me?"

"Ah, well, you see ..." Shikamaru struggled to put it into kinder words. "Boys don't play 'Princesses.'"

"Well that's no fair! I had everything all made! We had a castle and a lake! And now you won't play with me!"

His hand slapped against his forehead, wracking his brains for something, _anything_ to say. "It's not that I don't want to do something with you, Asami-chan, but just ..."

"Just what?" she demanded, hands on her hips, still pouting. He had a sickening feeling Ino had taught her how to do that.

"How troublesome ... Have you ever seen any other boys playing in pretty dresses and crowns?" This time he was going to try examples. In all actuality, he was just trying to wiggle his way out of the situation.

The girl before him thought for a moment before her face fell. "No ..."

A pang of guilt pounded in his chest the second he saw her sadden. He tried to ignore it. "So you see, it's not really ... normal for boys to play 'Princesses.'"

"Oh. Okay." The small girl sighed, starting to gather her toys back into her small arms, and it was almost as if that heavy sigh was directed straight at him.

He could feel the pressure of guilt building in his chest. He hated seeing her sad, but in the same breath, didn't he have any guts? Many of his comrades would have quickly diffused the situation with a startlingly sharp "no," but he couldn't even bring himself to say that! Another pang echoed through him, and Shikamaru found himself thinking of every possible thing he could say to make her feel better. But every time he got to something that he thought had an even remote chance of making Asami happy, that damn pulsating guilt would eat away at the idea until there was nothing left of it.

How could he make such brilliant battle strategies, yet he couldn't say no to a child?! Asuma would be rolling in his grave if he was seeing this.

Only when his hand reached out to stop her did Shikamaru realize how tightly wound she had him around her little finger.

"Asami?"

"Hmm?"

"You are one_ troublesome_ little girl."

"Yay~!" the little girl squealed. She knew she had won. Suddenly, she had dumped all of the offending toys back into his lap, and he tried to smile, his lips pulling awkwardly. "So, we're gonna play 'Princesses' and you have to promise not to complain, okay?"

Shikamaru sighed, eyes closing in defeat. "Okay, okay. So, how do we play this game?"

Asami's small face brightened, inky eyes sparkling. "We have to make you a princess first!" She began searching through the disorganized pile of fuchsia play-things before her hand emerged with a sparkly wand. "Your wand, Shika-hime!" she exclaimed in her shimmering voice.

He tensed at the name she called him. He had never enjoyed being called Shika-in fact, Ino did it mostly to piss him off-but now to tack "hime" on to it? If it had been anyone else calling him that, they would have been strangled by his_ Kage–Kubishibari no Jutsu _in seconds. But, Shikamaru figured, it was only this once, this one time. He could deal with it until this "mission" was over and he was allowed to go home. He took the sticky wand into his right hand and waved it once; sparkles upon sparkles fell onto his clothes, covering his black pants. "Since when do princesses have wands?" he asked, truly curious as to what her motive was.

She thought for a moment, pouting thoughtfully. "We're fairy princesses!"

Shikamaru knew he shouldn't have asked.

Next she pulled out a small pink bag, and unzipped the top of it. Her free hand dived into the bag and yanked out a handful of-wait, were those _pink ponytails, beaded hair pins and glitter?! _She smiled quickly at him, a charming grin, before she clambered behind him, and scaled her way onto the sturdy kitchen table. Shikamaru could tell she was kneeling behind his head, and as soon as a small hand grasped his spiky ponytail, he exclaimed, "Hey! What're you doing?!"

"No complaining!" Asami chimed, and sudden pain blossomed on his scalp. "I'm making you pretty!"

"I don't need to be pretty," Shikamaru huffed under his breath. Another sharp pain pinged on his head. "Ow! That hurts!"

"Stop moving, Sensei! I have to get them all in!"

"They hurt!" he accused.

"They do when Mama puts them in mine too! They have to hurt to keep your hair up! They're called pin bobbies-no, bobby pins!"

"What?-Ow!"

"They're bobby pins!"

He eyebrows furrowed. "Who'd call them bobby pins? These troublesome things hurt enough to be a torture method-Hey!"

"No complaining!" This time, he was sure she purposely dug the stupid metal hair pin into his scalp harder than before. To prove her point.

He mumbled and grumbled through the rest of the hair process, especially when she took out his original, thick ponytail and started sectioning his crow-dark hair into smaller pony tails. She sang to herself, humming about how "Shikamaru-sensei was turning into a pretty pink fairy princess" and continued to jab him with those horrible things he now knew as bobby pins. Finally, just when he thought it was all over, she overturned a small compact jar of glitter into his hair. It poofed up into a cloud of glittery, shiny stars. Asami waited until the billow of silver had settled-it was all over the kitchen. Kurenai was going to kill him-and began smearing it around, making sure every inch of his locks were covered.

"How much more of this do I have to go through?" he moaned, mostly to himself.

Obviously, his small companion heard him. "We have to find you a dress!"

His eyebrow twitched with angry annoyance. "I'm dressed well enough to be a princess, don't you think, kiddo?"

"No," the little girl argued. "You have to have a dress!"

He puffed, his hand hitting his forehead once again. "Boys don't wear dresses."

"But princesses do. And we're playing 'Princesses!' You promised you wouldn't complain, but you're complaining again, Shikamaru-sensei!" Asami huffed. "But you won't fit in _my _dress ... We have to make you one!"

Horror flashed in his narrow sorrel eyes. After the misery he had gone through with his hair, he didn't even want to speculate what terribly, unmanly things she was thinking about doing to him with this supposed make-shift dress! Shikamaru was desperately tempted to stop her as she raced away to her bed room again, but decided to flop back into the solid wooden chair like a rag doll after seconds of inner debate. There was no point. She would track him down if he attempted to run away. After all, there were only so many places he could hide in the small house before he would be bound to get caught.

Asami came back moments later, dragging an awkwardly large blanket, decorated in pink flowers and white bunnies, behind her small body. She swept it across the floor as she entered, and held it up for him to inspect. "See? It'll be a great dress!"

Shikamaru groaned lowly. "Do I have to?"

"Yes!"

He slowly stood up, achy legs stretching as he did, sighing and moaned as he went. He didn't even have a chance to remove his flak jacket to save it from the sparkly doomed blanket; the second he was on his feet, he was forced to raise his arms up so Asami could wrap the thick blanket around his torso. She twisted it tight, and tucked the remaining end under the blanket just below his arm pit. When she stepped back to admire her work, Shikamaru scratched at the itchy glitter that had burrowed deep into his hair.

"Yay! Shika-hime, you look like a real princess now!" She raced to grab the remaining objects that were still placed precariously in his lap. "I'll become a princess too, then we can have a tea party!"

Since when did princesses have tea parties?! Didn't they just sit on a throne and do nothing?!

Shikamaru wasn't sure how much longer he was going to last.

Asami bolted to her room and disappeared out of sight once again. This time, he could here clattering and banging, and more items being banished to her bedroom floor as she searched for whatever it was she was going to torture him with next. Moments past on, and soon, she came out, clad in a fluffy, bright pink dress packed with fake crystals and bows, a fake jeweled crown tipped sideways on her head. In her shaky hands was a purple plastic tray with a plastic tea set, purple, white and grey in color. Once she reached him and plopped herself down in a chair, she arranged the tea set on the table, pushing a tea cup his way. He twisted and moved his seat so he was now facing the table, sitting directly across from his fellow ... princess.

Asami beamed. "Now, are you all ready for the royal tea party, Shika-hime?"

Shikamaru protested, "I guess so." Before he closed his eyes and prayed mentally for this to be over. He knew he was doing to have a hard enough time convincing her to let him out of his ... dress, for all intents and purposes, let alone leave him be so he could scrub the sparkles out of his head. And yank out all the damn pins she stuck there too.

"You're still complaining, Sensei," she pouted.

"How was that complaining, Asami-chan?" he asked. He scratched at the annoying glitter in his hair once more, almost ripping out a ponytail by accident. He hoped she wouldn't notice.

"I'm Asami-sama now, Shika-hime!" she enthused, as she grabbed the cracked tea pot, and began pouring herself fake tea. "Would you like a cup, fellow princess?"

Shikamaru wanted to crawl into a hole and die. He forced himself to smile cheerfully as he quickly glanced over to the glazed window. Beyond it, reds and golds and deep pumpkin oranges radiated through the once blue sky, and for only a moment, he thought he saw the faint glimmer of the first star. It was sun setting now, and he knew he didn't have much longer before he would have to get out of the get up and become presentable once again. There was no way in _hell _he was going to let his teacher see him like this. No. Way.

Asami was still waiting for his response. "Uh, sure, Asami-chan." The devilishly strong glare she directed at him made him flinch. "Uh, I mean, yes, Asami-sama."

Asami busied herself pouring him a cup of pretend tea, and Shikamaru was so wrapped up in his escape-related thoughts that they both jumped when they heard a soft voice ask, "What's this? A tea party and I wasn't invited?"

_Oh please no! _

A shaky Shikamaru turned slowly in his seat, sighing and groaning and almost swearing as he went.

Kurenai was standing there, black hair tousled, a small cut slashed on her cheek. Her head band clutched in her hand, and she had already taken off her flak jacket and shinobi tool bag. When she had first entered his sight, she had looked exhausted, almost beaten and bruised, like many other shinobi felt and looked when they first arrived from a mission. But now, a gentle, yet controlled smile was twitching eagerly on her face. And with the way her large crimson eyes were shining, he knew she was trying not to laugh at him.

"Mama!" Suddenly, the tea party was disbanded and the small girl ran to embrace her beloved mother. "We played 'Princesses!' Didn't we, Sensei?"

Shikamaru looked pitifully at Kurenai, who for the first time, was taking in his entire appearance. She had to bite her lip to keep herself from snickering and chortling too hard, but the damage had already been done; Shikamaru's pride had been shattered, stepped on and buried when the entire game had first began. "Yes, it seems you did, didn't you?" Kurenai confirmed with her daughter.

Asami nodded vigorously. "He didn't want to, but I made him!"

Kurenai glanced toward him once more, and spoke directly to him. "Don't worry." At first, her voice was smooth yet stern, but as the next sentence was formed, she began losing all composure and was giggling more and more. Actually, she had a difficult time getting the last words out of her trembling lips. "I won't tell any about your ... escapades as a princess ... Shikamaru-hime."

That was it. Shikamaru gave up. He let his head slam onto the table loudly and he groaned just as noisily. Just as both girls began laughing almost hysterically, he lifted his head just enough to say, "Troublesome. Both of you are troublesome!" Before he let it fall back onto the table again.


End file.
